The air inside underground live venues is always damp and stifling, yet even such narrow and crowded spaces cannot compress the overflowing passion carried by the roaring voices of the audience.
On stage, the band is giving it their all. The lead singer strums his guitar while singing the melody, his posture so focused it almost looks as though he's kissing the microphone.
Down below, a blue-haired girl with short hair does not push her way into the tightly packed crowd at the center. Instead, she leans against the edge, eyes half-lidded. She appears absent-minded and spaced out, yet in truth she is listening to the performance with complete concentration.
The emotions conveyed by the song infect everyone present, spreading to every corner of the venue. The girl immerses herself in it, closing her eyes to savor the sensory impact brought by the music and the audience's heated shouts.
When the performance pauses briefly after the chorus, she opens her eyes—
—and a quiet figure on the opposite side of the crowd suddenly intrudes into her field of vision.
A curly-haired boy stands there with his arms crossed, remaining still. Unlike the others, he does not sway his body along with the rhythm. He gazes at the stage in profile, his expression calm and settled, standing out starkly amid the restless crowd—
just like her.
In the split second before the music starts up again, the curly-haired boy notices her gaze, turns his head, and meets the blue-haired girl's eyes.
The very next moment, the intense rock music surges back in, carrying the crowd's cheers and pushing the atmosphere to a new peak.
They lock eyes in silence amid the ear-splitting rock music, surrounded by chaos and noise, yet feeling as though no one else exists.
It should have been a romantic and old-fashioned boy-meets-girl kind of scene, but—
"...Uh, is this person sick or something? Why isn't he looking at the stage? Why is he staring at me?"
Almost in perfect unison, the two of them complain about the exact same thing in their own minds.
This was the first meeting between Narumi Tōru and Yamada Ryō.
———
Shimokitazawa, underground live venue.
"This is giving me a headache… The guitarist position is open now. Where are we supposed to find a temporary replacement…? Should we ask Onee-san and the others for help?"
A girl with long golden hair tied into a single ponytail sits in front of the drum kit, weakly tapping the toms as she vents her worries to the friend beside her.
"You can rely on me too."
The blue-haired girl fiddling with her bass answers flatly, unplugging the cable connected to the instrument.
"Ryō, can you introduce someone…? Do you know anyone?"
"Yeah. For example, Narumi at the front desk."
"Hey… He's just working part-time at the front desk, not a guitarist…"
"What does that matter? Just hand him a guitar. He's got hands, and there's a guitar."
"No no no, that matters a lot, okay? If he's never played guitar and has zero performance experience, then he's just a student working part-time. Ryō, please let him off the hook. And stop making deadpan jokes."
"What's the problem? I can teach him."
"We're looking for someone to perform with us, not an apprentice, hey."
The ponytailed girl, seemingly already used to her friend being this airheaded, simply waves her hand in exasperation and stops arguing the point.
"Whatever, whatever. I'll just look for a guitarist myself. There are plenty of people our age at school who can play guitar. I'll go check in a few days."
"Okay."
After agreeing without adding anything else, the blue-haired girl continues to play her bass expressionlessly. After fiddling with it for a while, she carefully places it back in its proper spot.
As she grabs her belongings and walks out of the rehearsal room, she unconsciously glances toward the empty front desk of the live house.
That boy is not scheduled to work here today.
"Ryō, let's go."
The blonde girl, her bag slung over her back, pats Ryō on the shoulder and walks out of the underground venue alongside her.
"By the way, Ryō, do you know that Narumi-kun at the front desk? How did you meet him?"
"Mm… not telling, Nijika."
"Ehh~?"
In a good mood, the blue-haired girl picks up her pace, softly humming the intro to Nirvana's Love Buzz.
It's a reference only that person would get—
and Yamada Ryō has no intention of explaining it properly.